“You’ve really gotta be more forthcoming…”

Yeah.  Forthcoming.

What do you want to know?  I’ll be only too happy to run my mouth.

Where I was a year ago tonight….  No, it was not a memorial for Martin Luther King.  I only realized tonight that the anniversary of his death preceded by 39 years the night of my incarceration.

Where I was, then. I was sitting in a holding cell in the Monmouth County Correctional Institution–aka, County–as part of a group of men who had dead-beat alimony, child support, or both. I was inside on alimony arrears gone to warrant. I was wearing a green jumpsuit with no pockets. Green is not my color. It was early April, yes, and the air conditioning was on. The Corrections Officers thought that was real funny. I don’t know at what point they robbed me of two expensive pens I had when I came in, but they did anyway. A Cross and a Rotring.

A year ago I thought my life was over. Surprise. You stick around long enough and stay alive, and everything will change.  Not may, will. That is a double-edged sword, however. Change is not always good but the only assurance there is that it swings back. It’s like the Medieval conception of Fortune’s Wheel.  It’s right.

Just don’t take an overdose, open your veins, or stick your head in an electric stove.

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